


The Whole World is Waking Up

by Polomonkey



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Dubious Consent, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Healthy Relationship, Feminization, Healing, Humor, Ignored Safeword, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Protective Merlin, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 12:49:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6658525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polomonkey/pseuds/Polomonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Arthur's father disowns him, Mordred is kind enough to take him in. But his kindness comes at a price and Arthur's not sure how long he can keep paying it. Especially since he's starting to fall for Mordred's assistant Merlin...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Whole World is Waking Up

**Author's Note:**

> A collaboration with a lovely artist and inspired by this (NSFW) art [here](http://ledirty.tumblr.com/post/143390485878/this-began-as-an-idle-thought-about-creepy) for bottom!Arthur fest over on tumblr. This was meant to be a short fic and ran away with me, yet again.
> 
> Please read the warnings very carefully! This fic was hard to tag because it deals with an emotionally abusive and manipulative relationship between Arthur and Mordred which may be triggering to some readers - especially since the fic is from Arthur's POV and he can't see the full extent of it himself. I've added more detailed and spoilery warnings in the end notes but please play it safe if you think this fic may be distressing to you! I really don't want to upset anyone.
> 
> Title taken from [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j9UxoNm4WwE) song.

Arthur’s very grateful.

When his father first caught him in bed with Elyan the gardener’s son and reached the conclusion that the only solution to his son’s “deviant lifestyle” was to cut him off without a penny, Arthur had been scared. He’d been even more scared when Uther had changed the locks and he’d found himself standing in the chilly October air with all of his possessions in a suitcase and nowhere in the world to go.

After one miserable night huddled in the corner of a 24 hour café, Arthur had gone to his father’s office to beg for clemency.

The security guard wouldn’t even let him past the ground floor.

He’d sat outside on his suitcase after that, gnawing his fist in an effort not to cry, wondering what the hell he was going to do next.

Then a shadow fell across his face.

“Arthur?”

Arthur recognised the man before him. Mordred Huxton was a business associate of Uther’s – or perhaps a business rival was more accurate. But they exchanged stilted small talk at company drinks Arthur was forced to attend, so he’d met Mordred a few times. He’d never quite liked him on those occasions; there was something a little too intense about the man, something off-putting.

And yet there was nothing off-putting about him now. He looked kind and a little concerned and Arthur had never been gladder to see a friendly face in his life.

Mordred ended up taking him for coffee. He was so gentle and sympathetic that in dribs and drabs it all came out – Uther’s discovery, the disownment, Arthur losing his home.

“And he used to pay my uni fees,” Arthur said, staring into his mug. “It’s too late to apply for a loan now, I think. I missed the deadline.”

“Really?” Mordred said, sounding concerned. “You’re in your final year, right?”

“Yeah but I’ll…” A fresh wave of misery welled in Arthur. “I think I’ll have to drop out.”

“Oh no,” Mordred said, brows furrowing. “But you’ve put so much work in.”

“I don’t have a choice,” Arthur said.

Mordred looked at him for a while and then nodded, like he’d made a decision.

“Did you know I’m gay, Arthur?”

“No,” Arthur said, a little shocked.

“I’m sure you’re wondering what that has to do with anything,” Mordred said wryly. “I brought it up because… my father didn’t approve of me either. We had a huge fight on my twenty-third birthday about it and we haven’t spoken since. That was ten years ago now. I was a bit older than you and I had my own flat already, so he couldn’t cut me off financially. But I felt…”

Mordred looked down at the table and sighed

“I felt a bit like you must be feeling now. Hurt and scared and completely abandoned.”

He lifted his head and looked straight at Arthur.

“Hearing what happened... I can’t sit by and watch you drop out of uni over this.”

“I don’t-”

“I’ll help you, Arthur. You can move in with me for a bit while you figure out what to do next. And I’ll loan you the money for uni myself if I have to.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly-”

Mordred held up his hand.

“I’ve done well out of life, Arthur. I’ve got more money than I could ever need, not to mention a huge flat with space going begging.”

His eyes pierced into Arthur’s.

“I think I was meant to run into you today. I think I was meant to help you.”

A protest was forming on Arthur’s lips but something in Mordred’s eyes made it die away.

“It would only be for a day or two,” he said at last, smiling across at Mordred.

And just like that, Arthur moved in.

 

So he’s very grateful, really. Mordred does everything he can to make Arthur welcome. He gives him a big bedroom all to himself. He sets up a weekly transfer of money into Arthur’s bank account (with Arthur’s insistence that he’ll pay it all back as soon as he can). He gives Arthur the food from his cupboards and the run of the flat and even lends him some clothes when the weather turns colder.

And if two weeks into Arthur living there, Mordred turns on the couch one night and kisses him, well Arthur’s grateful for that too. It’s proof that someone in the world still cares about him, that someone likes the person he is. That he won’t end up alone in life, like his father screamed at him before slamming the door in his face.

Anything’s better than being alone.

Arthur’s very grateful.

 

***

 

They start having sex not long after that.

Arthur’s attracted to Mordred, there’s no doubt about that. He’s never been with an older man before and there’s a certain appeal to being with someone so experienced. Elyan was only Arthur’s age and after what happened when Uther caught them, Arthur doesn’t think he can ever face him again. But Mordred is a real adult – he has his own car, a sleek apartment in the city, a successful career. And he’s opened his whole life to Arthur, been unfailingly generous in helping him out.

In spite of all that, he wouldn’t have minded getting to know Mordred a little better before they started sleeping together. But it’s a minor complaint to make really. Especially since the sex is very good. Mordred knows what he wants a lot more than any partner Arthur’s had before did. He’s confident in the bedroom, perfectly in control. There’s not really any discussion of the fact that Mordred will top and Arthur will bottom, but that’s fine too. Arthur always preferred to bottom anyway.

The first time they have sex, it’s more like making love than anything else. Mordred speaks softly to him, lays him down tenderly on the bed, tells him how beautiful he is. Arthur feels cherished; he feels protected.

It’s not always that tender but that’s not a problem, Arthur can appreciate something quick and dirty too. Unfortunately Mordred has problems with insomnia so he always packs Arthur off to his own bedroom when they’re done. Arthur wouldn’t mind a bit of a cuddle but it seems churlish to complain about that. Mordred needs his sleep because he works so hard, and anyway he’s not much of a cuddler in general. He usually pushes Arthur away if he attempts to snuggle up on the sofa in the evenings. But then he almost always has his laptop out anyway; the stock market never sleeps after all. Arthur can see how Mordred became so successful in the first place; his dedication is impressive. It’s the kind of work ethic Arthur feels he should aspire to one day.

After a few weeks, Mordred becomes a little more specific with what he wants in the bedroom. He says he wants to introduce Arthur to the kinkier side of things, and Arthur’s only too happy to comply.

He likes… some of it. Being tied up gets him surprisingly hot, and he quite enjoys the nipple clamps Mordred sometimes gets out. He’s less of a fan of being gagged (Mordred’s not big on the noises Arthur makes in bed) and he finds spanking much more painful than erotic to be honest. But he enjoys most of the stuff he does with Mordred and that’s what counts. The man has given him so much; he’s more than prepared to give a little back in this way.

Mordred likes to work late but he also likes to know where Arthur is. He says he worries about Arthur when he isn’t around. So Arthur gets into the habit of coming by the office when he’s finished with uni for the day.

It’s not very interesting, if he’s honest. Mordred doesn’t really have time to speak to him and Arthur usually just ends up watching him work until he’s finally ready to leave.

One day Mordred’s on such a long call that he waves Arthur out of his office with a sort of shooing gesture that Arthur can't help but be irritated by. He strides moodily into the staff kitchen and runs smack into someone.

“Woah!”

Oh God. That someone happens to be Mordred’s very nice assistant Merlin, and Arthur’s managed to spill the tea he was carrying all over his trousers.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, mortified. “I should have been looking…”

Unexpectedly, Merlin laughs.

“I’ve been putting off taking this suit to the dry cleaners for ages; you probably did me a favour.”

“Isn’t it hot?” Arthur says, glancing nervously down. And then up again with a rather pronounced blush when he realises most of the tea seems to have spilled on Merlin’s crotch.

“Nah, I got called into a meeting just after I made it,” Merlin says regretfully. “Went cold half an hour ago.”

“Still, I mean, I can pay for the dry cleaning if-”

“Arthur, relax. It’s just tea.”

Arthur feels a strange warmth to hear Merlin say his name. He doesn’t know why; they’ve never really spoken much before. Mordred briefly introduced them the first time Arthur came by the office and that was pretty much it.

He’s noticed that Merlin is cute, of course. He isn’t blind. And he likes the calm quality of Merlin’s voice, and the way he laughs occasionally with Gwen from Accounts, his whole head thrown back as though he can’t contain his joy.

Merlin seems like a joyful person. That’s nice. Mordred’s intensity is nice too but it can be a little… overwhelming.

“So are you hanging around for a bit?” Merlin says as he pulls some kitchen towel off the rack.

“Um. Yeah. Finished uni for the day so…”

Arthur tries not to look at where Merlin is dabbing himself.

“Oh right. What are you studying again?”

“History. At UCL.”

“Ah UCL! My old uni.”

“What did you study?” Arthur says curiously. Merlin is definitely older than Arthur but he can’t be more than twenty five or twenty six, now that he looks at him.

Arthur’s twenty first birthday is coming up next month. He hasn’t mentioned it to Mordred yet. He gets the feeling the man isn’t big on birthdays.

“Economics,” Merlin says. “Boring to most people but I loved it.”

“History’s boring to most people too,” Arthur says.

“People are idiots, it’s just as I suspected,” Merlin says, nodding wisely. “Not that I ever had much of a head for history myself. But I would be interested to learn more.”

Mordred’s not interested in Arthur’s degree at all. He seems to think history is a waste of time, and he doesn’t ever ask how Arthur’s lectures are going. Sometimes Arthur tries to share the odd snippet with him, but he always feels embarrassed when Mordred just looks blankly at him.

“Yeah. I mean… I’m doing a module on the history of unions in America at the moment. I know it sounds dry but it’s actually really fascinating.”

He falters a little, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Why would Merlin care about his modules?

But Merlin actually looks engaged.

“Yeah? I literally know nothing about that, tell me more.”

And somehow they spend the next ten minutes talking about Pinkerton agents and Carnegie and the Homestead strike.

Merlin ruefully looks at his watch when the topic’s finally exhausted.

“I should probably get back to work.”

“Yeah. Sorry, didn’t mean to distract you,” Arthur says quickly.

“It was a very enjoyable distraction! But Arthur, just tell me something.”

Merlin suddenly looks very serious and Arthur swallows.

“Yes?”

“Does it look like I wet myself?”

Arthur laughs before he can stop himself, far too loud for an office like this. But Merlin is grinning at him like that’s the exact reaction he wanted.

“Well, that says it all. Clearly I’ll have to go stand under the hand drier for a bit to avoid any vicious rumours getting started.”

“I’ll cover for you,” Arthur offers and Merlin gives him a friendly wink.

“I knew we’d be great friends, Arthur.”

And after that, they are.

 

***

 

“You look so pretty.”

Mordred’s voice is as dark and rich as the wine he’s pouring. Arthur’s already had too much of it, but it tastes so good that he can’t say no…

He shifts a little on his knees and Mordred places one restraining foot on his stockinged knee.

“There’s my princess,” he says and his voice is almost reverent as he runs his hand down Arthur’s side.

The corset feels tight where it cinches Arthur’s waist. It’s black and lacy and expensive looking; the kind of thing he’s seen in some of the more upmarket porn films he’s watched.

He never imagined wearing one himself but when Mordred had produced it earlier in the evening; Arthur had felt a strange unexpected frisson. On it’s even better; there’s something about the way it clings close to his body, fits neatly under the curve of his pecs. The way it restricts his breathing just slightly – not enough to be alarming but enough to be… exciting.

He’s less keen on the rest of the outfit. The matching silky underwear feels too tight, and the stockings do nothing for him either. But Mordred seems to like the ensemble as a whole so Arthur dutifully slips it all on.

He can’t deny that there’s something intoxicating about the way Mordred looks at him when it’s all in place. Hungry, eager, perhaps even a little awed. Arthur’s never felt like he had this much power over anyone before.

But the power dynamic seems to shift a bit when Mordred slips the shaft ring snugly around his cock. Arthur doesn’t mind, not really, but orgasm control isn’t something he finds particularly sexy. He allows it because he knows what it does for Mordred, whose pupils are already blown black with arousal.

“Just to make sure you’re a good girl for me,” he says, tugging at the edge of Arthur’s corset. “Kneel down, darling.”

Arthur does as he says and Mordred takes a seat opposite him. He sits back and contemplates Arthur for a few seconds.

“You’re almost perfect, princess. Just one final touch.”

Arthur thinks the little silver tube Mordred proffers is a sex toy at first, until he unscrews the cap.

It’s a lipstick. Mordred wants him to put lipstick on. Arthur’s face heats and the same frisson he felt when he saw the corset rushes through him.

“Come on now, darling. Put it on for me.”

Mordred’s foot has found Arthur’s silk clad cock and he’s rubbing back and forth slowly.

As if in a trance, Arthur reaches forward. At the last second, Mordred pulls his hand back.

“I changed my mind. I want to put it on you.”

He beckons and Arthur finds himself walking forwards on his knees. Mordred smiles, pleased, and then pats his lap.

It’s almost embarrassing, climbing up onto Mordred’s lap, but for the tingles of excitement pulsing through Arthur’s body. Mordred’s still dressed in his full suit from work and the material brushes up against Arthur’s nearly naked body. He puts his arms around Mordred’s neck and the man smiles contentedly.

“That’s my girl.”

His grip is gentle as he holds Arthur’s chin; his other hand painting a careful line across Arthur’s lips. It feels strangely thick on and Arthur has to resist the urge to lick it off. He parts his lips instead and Mordred nods.

“Nearly done now.”

Then suddenly he’s bringing the lipstick down to rub across Arthur’s nipples. Arthur whimpers – either in humiliation or arousal, he can’t say which – and Mordred hushes him.

“Let me take care of you. I always take care of you, don’t I, Arthur?”

Arthur nods, staring in mute fascination at the pink circling his nipples.

“Don’t I?”

Arthur looks up to see Mordred staring into his eyes.

“Yes,” he says quickly. “You take good care of me.”

Mordred presses a kiss to his cheek, looking pleased.

“I’m looking out for you now, princess,” he says softly. “You don’t need to worry anymore.”

Arthur leans in for a kiss but Mordred stands instead, lifting Arthur to his feet.

“Come on then,” he says, suddenly sounding business like. “Did you get yourself ready for me?”

Arthur nods, flushing a little. He had worked the little pink dildo Mordred had given him in and out of himself in the bathroom. He’d added a generous amount of lube too, knowing how Mordred sometimes forgot to add more in the heat of the moment.

Mordred grins.

“Let’s see you then. Up on the table.”

Blushing harder, Arthur lets Mordred guide his leg up, leaving him balanced with one hand on the sideboard.

Mordred’s searching fingers push the silky underwear aside, tapping at Arthur’s hole beneath.

“You’re so warm here,” he murmurs, teasing at the rim of Arthur’s hole. “So warm and wet and… tight.”

On the last word he pushes his finger upwards and Arthur gasps. Mordred laughs a little, stroking Arthur’s leg with his free hand.

“There, now. Relax around me, darling.”

Swallowing hard, Arthur does. Mordred pushes another finger inside and starts to scissor them slowly.

The cool air is making Arthur’s nipples harden and when he glances down at them all he sees is the pink lipstick and the corset below and _what the hell is he doing?_ He feels a flutter of panic inside him and he twists a little. Mordred glances up.

“Alright, princess?”

Arthur exhales heavily and Mordred withdraws his fingers.

“You’re alright, you’re doing great,” he says soothingly. “I said I’d take care of you, didn’t I? Come here.”

He helps Arthur down off the table and draws him into a lingering kiss. Arthur relaxes at the feel of Mordred’s lips on his, of the hand gently stroking his hair.

Mordred leads him back to the chair and Arthur goes willingly, sitting back on his lap and letting Mordred arrange his legs.

“There we go,” Mordred says quietly. “Lift your hips for me, darling.”

When Mordred finally enters him Arthur shuts his eyes and moans, feeling almost too full to breathe. It’s so overwhelming he can’t tell if it’s good or bad; and he struggles to get enough air in for a few seconds.

But he moves as Mordred directs him to and it’s not long before his cock is straining against its confinement. He groans in frustration but Mordred keeps whispering “not yet, not yet,” so he continues to shift up and down. Mordred is breathing erratically now, hands gripping Arthur’s hips hard, mouth sucking and biting at Arthur’s nipples. He starts thrusting faster and Arthur has to pick up the pace, though his arousal is bordering on painful now and he can’t help thinking this whole thing would be better if he was just allowed to come…

But then Mordred freezes and jerks slightly and Arthur knows the other man is close. He squeezes tight as he can, just like Mordred has taught him, and it seems to work. Mordred comes with a sigh; he never seems to allow himself a louder expression of pleasure than that.

He rests his head on Arthur’s shoulder as his breathing evens out.

“So good for me,” he murmurs.

Arthur waits until he’s come down off his high and then gestures towards himself.

“Can I-”

“Oh.”

Mordred looks surprised, as though he’d forgotten. But he eases the shaft ring off Arthur and gives him a few quick jerks.

That’s all it takes. Arthur’s toes curl and he comes with a small shout.

Mordred wipes his hand off on Arthur’s stockings and then ruffles his hair briefly.

“You’re a mess,” he says. “Go clean yourself off.”

And just like that, Arthur’s dismissed.

 

 

***

 

The problem is Merlin.

Or perhaps Merlin is the opposite of a problem. Arthur doesn’t know anymore.

What he does know is that his stomach does tiny flips when Merlin is around and there’s no-one in the world he wants to make laugh more and more often than not he finds himself imagining what it would be like to kiss Merlin.

But these imaginings fill him with shame. He’s supposed to be with Mordred – the man who literally saved him from being homeless. How can he be so ungrateful as to think about being with someone else?

He can’t help himself though. Mordred seems to be working later and later every night and Arthur’s sometimes stuck at the office for hours on end. If he didn’t talk to Merlin, he thinks he’d go mad. Normally they just work in companionable silence – Merlin typing away and Arthur scribbling notes from his textbooks. But more often than not, they wander off to the kitchen to get tea, or Merlin leans over to show Arthur some silly meme on his phone, or Arthur reads out some historical fact that provokes a twenty minute debate.

It’s during one of those interludes that Merlin somehow ends up doing an impression of Winston Churchill (for reasons best known to himself) and it may just be that they’re both hyped on coffee, but somehow it sends them into hysterics.

Arthur’s laughing so hard he thinks he might cry and Merlin is no better off, clutching his stomach in paroxysms of mirth. His eyes have curved up into little half-moons and Arthur is struck by a sudden urge to reach out and touch him; he looks so open and happy and sweet…

Then his neck prickles and he turns to see Mordred staring right at him through the glass door of his office. But before Arthur can raise his hand in greeting, Mordred walks away.

He’s a bit uneasy when they get home that night, Mordred hadn’t really said much to him on the drive. He must be mad about what he saw earlier. The thought fills Arthur with a strange kind of dread.

But when they get inside Mordred takes him straight to the bedroom, and Arthur thinks perhaps he mistook arousal for anger. He happily lets himself be stripped and tied spread-eagled to the bed, and accepts the leather gag into his mouth without a fuss. He doesn’t even mind the snug vibrator Mordred tucks inside him, despite the fact that it’s set on a buzz so low that it’s more frustrating than anything else.

What he does mind is that Mordred had walked out of the room half an hour ago and hasn’t been back since.

He’s sure he hears him on the phone to Merlin shortly after, so he assumes perhaps Mordred had remembered some work that couldn’t wait. But the phone call hadn’t lasted long and still Mordred was staying away.

If this is part of the game, Arthur doesn’t like it. His arms ache from being stretched out and he can’t move enough to get any kind of relief from the buzzing inside him. His cock is half-hard but it can’t get any further without some more stimulation. And at the end of all this he wonders if he’ll even get to come at all, or if Mordred will decide he has to wait until tomorrow like he does sometimes.

He briefly entertains the idea of just banging on the wooden bedframe until Mordred comes back in. It’s probably breaking the rules of the game completely but is he just supposed to lie here forever?

Mordred will be pissed off if he starts making noise. Arthur decides to give it a little longer.

Then the doorbell rings. His heart jumps a little in his chest when he hears Merlin’s voice but he supposes it confirms his theory from earlier. Mordred had remembered work he needed doing and had rung Merlin to bring it round.

The voices become a little louder so he guesses Mordred has brought Merlin into the living room. He’s suddenly very glad the bedroom door is firmly closed. The thought of Merlin seeing him like this makes him shudder.

“I’m sorry to bring you out at this hour; they just have to be at the office first thing tomorrow. And I have that meeting in Farringdon...”

“It’s fine, it’s just the Benson papers, right?”

Merlin sounds a little short. Arthur can’t exactly blame him. He might try and have a gentle word with Mordred later, it’s not as though Mordred can’t afford to hire a courier for this kind of thing.

“Yes, just these. Oh and… I think I left the rest in the bedroom. If you wouldn’t mind?”

Arthur’s blood runs cold.

What is Mordred doing? He can’t possibly have forgotten he left Arthur in here. Please God let Mordred remember, don’t let Merlin come in here _, don’t let him see…_

The door swings open and Merlin strides right in, face set in a frown.

“Can’t be bothered to walk into your own bedroom?” he’s muttering. “Yeah that sounds about right, you useless- Jesus Christ!”

Arthur wants to die.

There’s no part of his body he can hide, he’s completely splayed out and vulnerable. He can’t speak to explain himself around the leather gag and he can’t even close his legs to hide the vibrator from view. He’s never been more ashamed in his entire life and the fact that it’s Merlin seeing him makes it so much worse.

Merlin looks completely shocked. His mouth is hanging open a little, his hands twitching in mid-air.

And then Mordred comes in. Arthur looks to him immediately, wanting to reassure himself that this was just a mistake, that Mordred forgot, that he’ll make this all alright somehow.

But Mordred just… smiles. And the bottom drops out of Arthur’s world.

He saw Arthur flirting with Merlin earlier. This is his revenge.

The sense of betrayal is so strong that Arthur finds it difficult to breathe for a few seconds. Merlin’s averted his eyes by now, he’s looking over at Mordred instead, his expression unreadable.

“Do you like my boy, Merlin?” Mordred says softly. “I’ve seen you staring at him enough times. I thought you might enjoy a proper look.”

Arthur tries to speak but it comes out muffled behind the gag. Frantically he knocks with two fingers on the headboard – their safe word for if his mouth was ever full.

Mordred doesn’t pay any attention.

“He’s pretty like this, isn’t he? I bet you’ve imagined it before. But I expect it was your bed you pictured him in.”

Arthur knocks again.

“Only he’s not yours, is he?”

Mordred’s voice is low and he’s staring straight into Merlin’s eyes.

“He’s mine.”

A tear trickles out of Arthur’s eye and down onto the pillow. The shame is overwhelming; he can’t see anything beyond it.

Merlin flicks a glance at Arthur and then settles his eyes back on Mordred, who’s smirking expectantly.

“Understand?”

Merlin exhales, once. Then he curls his hands up into fists.

“Why is he knocking like that?” he says, and his voice is perfectly flat.

Mordred looks wrong-footed.

“What?”

“Why is he knocking like that?”

Arthur’s never heard Merlin’s voice quite like this before. Eerily controlled, like the calm before a storm.

Mordred tries to laugh.

“You’re very concerned about the boy, aren’t you Merlin? Is it because you think-”

“Is that his safe word?”

“What?”

“Are you ignoring his safe word, you piece of shit?”

Merlin spits the words out like bullets.

Mordred’s face turns an ugly shade of red.

“Did you not hear a word I said?” he hisses. “He’s not your boyfriend, not your responsibility. He’s mine and I’ll do what I-”

Arthur knocks again, desperately, and Merlin starts towards the bed. Mordred reaches out to grab his arm, to pull him back.

Merlin turns and punches him in the face.

Mordred goes down hard, stumbling against the wall. Merlin’s already moving away, back to the bed.

“Arthur, are you alright?” he says and his voice is nothing like it was before.

Arthur nods as best he can. Merlin begins to tug at the scarves tying his hands; he gets one free before remembering to pull the gag from Arthur’s mouth.

“Speak to me.”

“I’m okay,” Arthur croaks out, not trusting his voice to say more.

Merlin pulls at the other scarf, the moment it’s free he moves to Arthur’s feet to undo those knots. Arthur’s left to reach down and remove the vibrator from himself. He’s so shocked and shaky that he can barely feel the humiliation any more, it’s like his body has gone numb.

Mordred’s gotten to his feet at last and Arthur tenses up. Merlin grabs Arthur’s boxer briefs off the chair and hands them to him before placing himself next to the bed like a sentinel.

Mordred touches his nose to dab at the trickle of blood there.

“You’re fucking fired,” he says, eyes wide with disbelief.

“I figured,” Merlin says, folding his arms across his chest.

Mordred narrows his eyes.

“I should call the police on you,” he says dangerously.

“Go ahead,” Merlin says, voice tight with anger. “I’d love to explain to them what’s been going on here.”

Mordred inhales sharply.

“I don’t know what you think you know…”

“All I know is that I’m walking out of here with Arthur tonight,” Merlin says and his voice is like steel.

Arthur must make a little sound at that because Merlin turns to him and his eyes soften.

“That’s if you want to come with me?” he adds quietly.

Mordred gapes.

“Of course he doesn’t want to come with you! I’m his fucking boyfriend! He lives here, I’m putting him through uni-”

“I’m not talking to you,” Merlin says. “Arthur?”

Arthur blinks back tears. He can’t make this decision, he doesn’t know how. Mordred took him in off the streets, helped him when no one else would. But what he did tonight…

Arthur can’t ever forgive him for that.

“I want to come with you,” he whispers. “Please.”

Merlin nods.

“Get your things,” he says gently, then turns back to Mordred.

“Don’t make a fuss. Don’t come looking for him. I will go to the police and I will ruin you.”

“They’ll laugh you out of the station,” Mordred sneers but he looks scared.

“The press, then. Someone will print the story, believe me,” Merlin says grimly.

Mordred takes a furious step forward but Merlin doesn’t flinch.

“Try me,” he says, his mouth a straight hard line and Mordred stops still.

“Fine,” he says, and he turns towards the bed. “This is what you want, is it Arthur? To walk out on me? After everything I’ve done for you?”

Arthur can’t meet his eyes. He’s fumbling as he struggles to do up his shirt buttons, fingers trembling.

“This is how it is? Take my money and then run off to hide behind someone else? You owe me, Arthur. You owe me!”

“He owes you nothing,” Merlin says firmly.

Arthur’s fully dressed now. He picks up his backpack and shoves the uni books he left lying on the dresser inside. He opens the wardrobe and carefully removes only the clothes he brought with him, nothing Mordred bought for him. The toiletries and the rest can stay behind.

There’s perfect silence in the room as he pushes his clothes into the bag. Merlin is still standing between him and Mordred, as though to ward off an attack. Arthur doesn’t think Mordred will ever physically attack him though. He said it all already with words tonight.

Arthur’s legs are shaking but he manages to walk past Mordred and into the kitchen, where he picks up the last of his notebooks. Merlin’s at his side but Arthur can’t resist one last look back. Mordred is leaning against the wall, hands clenched at his sides.

“I would have always taken care of you,” he says softly.

Arthur can’t speak. He can only hoist his bag onto his back and follow Merlin out the door.

 

***

 

Merlin’s flat is in Kennington, on a quiet leafy street off the main road. The place itself is nice, surprisingly so. Arthur wouldn’t have thought being a personal assistant would pay that much; especially not for a flat with two bedrooms in London.

Merlin follows his gaze.

“It was my uncle’s,” he says, shedding his coat. “He died last year and left it to me in his will.”

“I’m sorry,” Arthur says quickly.

“So am I.” Merlin sounds rueful. “Would rather have Gaius alive than the flat to be honest but there you go.”

Arthur nods. He can’t count the number of times he wished as a child he could swap the Pendragon mansion for just one day spent with his mother.

“Anyway,” Merlin says, bright again, “it’ll be good to make use of the spare room.”

“Oh no, please,” Arthur says, putting his hands up. “I can just sleep on the couch…”

“Don’t be silly.”

“But what about when you have company-”

“Arthur, please,” Merlin says firmly. “My drunk friend Gwaine is the only one who ever comes round here and he’s usually too smashed to make it past the couch. I think we’re good.”

Arthur nods.

“Thank you,” he says. “And thank you for-”

Suddenly a lump is rising up in his throat, unbidden. He can’t talk about what happened earlier, he can’t even think about it.

Merlin touches his arm, gently.

“Would you like to take a shower?”

Arthur stays under the water for a long time. He feels bad about wasting Merlin’s hot water after a while so he turns it colder and colder, until he’s shivering all over. He can scrub and scrub but he’ll never be clean of tonight.

The water disguises his tears. By the time he’s out and wrapped in Merlin’s spare towel, he could almost pass for normal. He pulls on the jogging bottoms and t-shirt Merlin laid out for him and steels himself to return to the living room/kitchenette. Merlin’s stood at the stove, stirring a pan.

“Oh, hey, just in time. I made spaghetti. Or something that could reasonably pass for spaghetti. I’m not the world’s greatest cook; let’s just get that out there right now.”

“I can cook,” Arthur says, immediately latching on to a way he could be useful. “I could cook every night for you, I’m good at it.”

Merlin turns from stirring the pot and looks at Arthur.

“You could, yes, if you actually enjoy cooking and you were in the mood,” he says evenly. “But if you’re looking for ways to somehow pay me back for living here, I’d rather you didn’t.”

“I have to pay you back somehow,” Arthur says, a little floored by the understanding in Merlin’s eyes.

“If you clean up after yourself and don’t play thrash metal at 3am, I think that’ll be payment enough.”

“But-”

“Arthur,” Merlin says, steering him to a seat at the little table. “My uncle left me this flat. I’m not paying any rent on it, why would I make you pay?”

“But… light and water and…”

“I can easily cover all that for now. If you really want to make a small contribution, we can discuss it when your student loan comes in.”

Arthur lowers his eyes.

“I don’t get a student loan. My dad used to pay my fees so I never applied and now…”

“They refused you one?” Merlin sounds shocked.

“No, but obviously you can’t apply for one after the deadline, it’s too late.”

“It’s not too late. What about financial aid? They can’t just leave people in the lurch.”

“But Mordred told me…”

Arthur trails off, miserably. It hadn’t been true. Of course it hadn’t. He was such a fool…

“The bastard,” Merlin says vehemently.

“I’m an idiot,” Arthur says, voice thick with self-loathing.

“You are _not_ an idiot, never say that,” Merlin says fiercely. “It’s his fault, not yours. And we can fix this. Tomorrow we’ll get online and see if we can make a case.”

“Yeah? It’s not too late in the year?”

“You’re rooming with an ex-Economics student now, Arthur. I speak the language of Student Finance, worry not.”

Merlin smiles and Arthur can’t help but give him a little watery smile in return. Could it really be that simple? If he got a loan again he could help Merlin out, he could buy those books he needed, afford campus printing again…

Merlin’s serving up the pasta by the time Arthur’s gotten to grips with the idea. He gives the larger portion to Arthur, who once again has to swallow around the lump in his throat. It’s not like dinner at Mordred’s penthouse, where recently even the food felt like it came with an implicit debt to be paid.

And yet he still can’t finish half of what’s on his plate. Merlin puts it in a Tupperware and tells him to eat it later.

“Help yourself to anything,” he says, waving at the cupboards. “No need to ask.”

Arthur can’t quite believe this generosity can be real. A little tight knot in his stomach is telling him there must be a catch somehow.

And yet Merlin seems so good…

But so did Mordred, once upon a time.

“If you wake up before me tomorrow you can grab breakfast,” Merlin is continuing, as he gestures Arthur over to sit on the sofa.

“Won’t you need to be up for work?” Arthur says, and then cringes when he realises his mistake.

“I’m on a little impromptu holiday,” Merlin says with a grin and then frowns when Arthur’s face crumples. “Oh no, Arthur, don’t-”

“I lost you your job,” Arthur croaks out, on the verge of tears. “I’m so so sorry, Merlin.”

“Hush now, stop that.”

Merlin sits down on the sofa next to Arthur and pats his arm.

“You didn’t lose me anything. I always hated that job.”

“You were fine before I came along,” Arthur says, sniffling slightly.

“I really wasn’t. I’d already drafted my letter of resignation by the first time I met you. I never wanted to work for a big corporation like that, or even the private sector at all. I was just trying to get a bit of experience so I could apply for other jobs.”

Arthur processes this. It sounds like Merlin’s being honest with him, and the guilt in his chest lessens a little. Except…

“You first met me months ago. Why did you never resign?”

Merlin blushes slightly.

“To be honest, I…”

He breaks off and looks down at his hands.

“I didn’t resign because of you. I wanted… I liked seeing you. You made coming to work a bit more bearable.”

“I liked seeing you too,” Arthur says, shocked out of being shy. He’d never known that Merlin felt that way.

The revelation warms him a little inside but he’s dismayed to see that Merlin looks positively tearful.

“But I let you down. I saw you all that time and I never knew what he was doing to you. I should have stepped in before. I knew him, I knew what he was like…”

Arthur looks down at his hands. He doesn’t want to talk about this, not now. He still can’t make sense of it all in his head; it’s too big to look at directly.

Merlin seems to catch on.

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about it.”

He rests his hand gently on Arthur’s knee for a second and Arthur sees his knuckles are bruised.

“Are you okay?”

Merlin looks at his hand and groans a little.

“Yeah. I guess just… punching someone isn’t exactly like in the movies.”

“It hurt?”

“It really hurt! I had to stand there and look all manly but inside I was dying!”

Arthur laughs. The situation’s not funny, not really, but something about the expression on Merlin’s face is so comical.

Merlin starts to laugh too and soon the pair of them are snorting away on the couch together.

They subside eventually and Arthur feels the knot in his stomach tighten again.

“Do you mind if I… I’m quite tired...”

“Oh, of course!”

Merlin springs up and starts bustling around with toiletries and extra bedding. He shows Arthur into the spare bedroom, which is small but cosy, with slightly chintzy knick-knacks on the windowsill. It looks like it hasn’t been redecorated since the seventies but there’s a homely feel to it that Arthur appreciates. A world away from the sleek sterility of Mordred’s place.

It still feels lonely when Merlin bids him goodnight and shuts the door. Which is stupid, because he slept alone at Mordred’s as well. And yet there’s a deeper sense of his isolation this time. He’s lost two homes in four months. He’s on his own yet again.

Arthur climbs into bed but he can’t fall asleep. He gets up and opens the curtains at one point, looks out at the dark world beyond his window. Wonders about his father and Mordred; and whether they’re thinking about him right now too.

The night sky holds no answers. He waits until it’s too cold to bear anymore and then he gets back under the covers, hugging himself and waiting for morning.

 

***

 

The next few months pass in a blur. Arthur’s so worn out from all the emotional fallout from Mordred, plus the ensuing fight with Student Finance, plus writing his dissertation that he feels like he barely sleeps.

His dissertation turns out pretty well in the end, all things considered. He writes it on Keir Hardie and the early Labour party and is lucky enough to get the only socialist professor on staff as his supervisor, who enthusiastically lends him every helpful book from her extensive library.

The fight for his loans isn’t too bad either because Merlin basically takes that over.

“I’m Student Finance’s worst nightmare, Arthur – an Economics whizz kid with literally nothing but time on his hands,” Merlin says, waggling his eyebrows as he waits on hold with yet another frazzled employee.

He can always make Arthur laugh. Even when things seem bleakest.

Because the emotional fallout of Mordred is not easy to deal with at all. Mordred doesn’t make any attempt to contact Arthur; Merlin’s warnings must have hit home. But it doesn’t make Arthur feel much better. For his first few weeks at Merlin’s flat, he can’t find the energy to go into university at all. He stays in bed a lot, thinking about his time with Mordred, hating himself for being so stupid. The man was always using him. Arthur was a fool to fall for it.

In the fourth week, Merlin brings a cup of tea in at three in the afternoon and tells Arthur to get out of bed.

“You can be back in bed in less than two hours, I promise,” he says firmly. “But the Farmer’s market is on today and I need an extra pair of hands.”

“I don’t want to go outside,” Arthur says dully.

“I know you don’t,” Merlin says. “But you can. Just for one hour. And then I’ll leave you be.”

And he can. It’s horrible and he feels like he’s walking in treacle and he flinches away when any dark haired man walks by. But he survives. He picks out avocadoes and plums and courgettes, and even manages to share a joke with the girl selling homemade fudge. Merlin nods approvingly and lets Arthur go straight back to bed when they get home.

But he brings Arthur out to pick up some books from a seller on Gumtree the next day (“because I don’t want to get murdered by some internet weirdo”) and then to visit Gaius’ grave with him the day after that (how could Arthur say no?) and then somehow he’s dropping Arthur off at his lectures next week without Arthur even being sure how he was persuaded out of the house.

Merlin doesn’t push in other ways though. He doesn’t ask about Mordred and Arthur doesn’t volunteer any information. But Merlin does email him a link one day to the counselling service UCL offers. He doesn’t actually mention it and Arthur ignores the link for a month before finally clicking on it at four in the morning when he’d woken shaking from a nightmare about Mordred. 

His counsellor is a solid, friendly man called Leon. He isn’t how Arthur imagined counsellors to be, stern faced and silent while their patients reclined on their couch. He’s kind and has a good sense of humour and sometimes the session feel more like a conversation than anything else, with Leon just asking him how everything is going.

It’s still hard, though. Arthur tries to be honest about what happened between him and Mordred but there are some things he just can’t say; the humiliation makes the words stick in his throat. Sometimes he can’t bear to hear the words out loud, evidence of what an idiot he was. Not that Leon ever says he’s an idiot; not that he ever says anything other than that Arthur’s doing well and he should try not to be so hard on himself.

He cries in a few of the sessions too, surprising himself. It’s not only about Mordred. Leon asks about his father one day and Arthur tells him about being disowned. It only takes Leon to say “that sounds like it must have been a terrible thing to deal with” for Arthur to lose it completely. He sobs for most of that session and half of the next one too. He and Uther were never particularly close, but being abandoned is a pain he might never be able to reconcile himself to.

Merlin is extra gentle with him on the days he has counselling. He cooks dinner and puts something soothing on the television that Arthur can crash out in front of. He never lets Arthur stay up too late at night and he always sits with him when Arthur’s panicking about how much work he has to do, helping him go through his notes or organise his essay references.

Arthur will never be able to pay him back for all his kindness, but he’s starting to understand that Merlin doesn’t look at things that way. That, unlike Mordred and Uther, Merlin does things for their own sake; not because he wants something in return.

That said, he wants to make Merlin proud. And do well on his degree so he can get a good job and finally start contributing to the house. That’s if Merlin wants him to stay. He hopes Merlin does. It’s funny but Arthur can’t really imagine living anywhere else now.

Results day is extra nerve-wracking for all of those reasons.

“The suspense is killing me,” Merlin says, hovering over the laptop. “Just tell me – no wait, don’t tell me. Arthur, it doesn’t matter, they’re just grades. I don’t even care, let’s not look, you’re worth more than any piece of paper from some jumped up university of-”

“Merlin!” Arthur says. “Do I need to get you a paper bag to breathe in?”

“No! Actually, maybe yes. Oh, just click on the link.”

Arthur clicks with one trembling finger. He stares at the writing on the screen for a while, unable to quite make it out.

“I got… I got a 2:1. Merlin, I got a 2:1!”

“Yesss! Yesssss!”

Merlin’s tugging Arthur up from the seat and pulling him into a hug before he can even think about it. They’re dancing round the room in a circle, giddy and hysterical, cheering fit to wake the dead.

And then suddenly, somehow, they’re kissing.

They break apart as suddenly as they came together, and stand staring at each other. Merlin bites his lip and Arthur takes a step back, breathing heavily.

“I… sorry,” he says, miserable with the thought that he’s ruined everything now.

“No, don’t be, don’t be sorry. Just… was that a fluke?”

Merlin vaguely gestures, still looking dazed.

“With the excitement and the… was it just a fluke?”

It’s Arthur’s turn to bite his lip.

“Not for me,” he says at last, looking down at the ground.

It’s been seven months since he left Mordred’s house with Merlin. But Arthur has liked Merlin much longer than that, has liked him since the first day he met him. He hasn’t been in a position to think about a relationship with anyone for a long time. But now…

There’s nothing he wants more.

“It wasn’t for me, either,” Merlin says and Arthur looks up, hope blossoming in his chest.

But the smile Merlin is giving him is a little fragile.

“I think… I think today we should celebrate your achievement? Go to the West End like we planned and have the dinner and everything. And then tomorrow… we’ll talk?”

Arthur nods, a little disappointed. But it’s not the worst idea in the world to have a little cooling off time. He’s pretty shocked by what just happened too; he’s imagined kissing Merlin plenty of times but he was never sure that Merlin would kiss back.

He thinks the day will be awkward but they have a surprisingly nice time. And when they get home that night, Merlin shyly asks if Arthur wants to spend the night in his bed.

“Just sleeping, of course,” he says quickly, and Arthur’s happy with that. Especially when Merlin cuddles up close to him, wraps his arms around Arthur and falls asleep pressed against his shoulder.

Arthur himself doesn’t sleep for hours. He listens to Merlin’s soft snuffling breaths, and thinks about his degree result and his job applications and what the future holds for him.

But most of all he thinks about the fact that Mordred never let Arthur sleep in his bed with him; and how different his life is now.

 

***

 

It isn’t until the next day when they’re snuggled on the sofa, Arthur’s head pillowed on Merlin’s shoulder, that the talk finally happens.

“So… about yesterday.”

Arthur tenses a little.

“Yes?” he says.

“It was… I mean… It was nice. To kiss you. I would like to… I would like to be with you.”

Arthur breathes out a sigh of relief.

“I want to be with you too,” he says happily, sitting up to face Merlin.

But Merlin doesn’t look quite as thrilled as Arthur.

“Good, that’s good but… I think maybe there needs to be a conversation first.”

“About what?”

Merlin exhales and rubs at his eyes.

“Your last relationship wasn’t… I mean, it wasn’t a good one.”

Arthur turns cold.

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

“I know but I think we need to,” Merlin says. “I don’t want to be like he was-”

“You’re not! It’s not the same.”

“I know it’s not the same,” Merlin says quietly. “I would never in a million years treat you like that bastard did. But I am older than you, Arthur-”

“-by barely five years-”

“-and you have been living with me all this time. I don’t want you to think that you owe me in any way.”

Arthur stares at Merlin.

“I don’t.”

“But you did once. When you first moved in.”

“That was ages ago!”

Arthur feels frustration welling up inside of him. They like each other, they want each other, what is the problem?

He doesn’t realise he’s said that last part out loud until he hears Merlin sigh.

“I’m not creating problems for the sake of it. I want us to be together too. But it wouldn’t be right if we didn’t talk about these kinds of things.”

“Look,” Arthur says, trying to rein his emotions in. “I don’t care that you’re older. Five years is not a huge gap. I know you and I know we work together. And I don’t… I know when I moved in… I was confused. But it’s different now.”

“But we still haven’t talked about some of the things before,” Merlin says gently. “Things around Mordred. And I’ve never pried about that and I never will; it’s up to you what you want to tell me. But in a relationship… some of those issues might come back to the surface.”

“Like what?” Arthur says, daring Merlin to say it.

“Like sex,” Merlin says, in the same gentle tone.

Arthur’s jaw tightens.

“What issues exactly do you think will come back to the surface, Merlin?” he spits. “The fact that I’m a whore or the fact that I’m a broken sex toy?”

Merlin doesn’t flinch.

“You are neither of those things and you know I would never think of you like that,” he says very calmly.

Arthur’s nearly crying, he’s so frustrated.

“You… you saw me that night…” he says, and he can’t keep the sob out of his voice. “And now you’re throwing it back in my face...”

Merlin’s composure cracks then.

“No! Arthur, please, I wouldn’t. None of this is about you, it’s about him and I just want to-”

Suddenly it’s Merlin that’s crying and Arthur doesn’t know what to do.

“I hate that he treated you like that and I hate that I have to bring it up now but I would be a bad person if I didn’t make sure you were ready for this! Jesus, you think I want to say any of this? I just want to kiss you and hold you and be the best boyfriend you could ever imagine. But it’s not fair to you, Arthur, and I don’t want to push you too far.”

Arthur can’t deal with Merlin crying. It breaks his heart. And it makes him feel so guilty, for all the problems and drama he brought into Merlin’s life.

Merlin might be trying to let him down easy, for all he knows. Give him the nicest rejection possible, because he doesn’t want to hurt Arthur’s feelings. It would be the kind of thing Merlin would do.

“I have to go to bed,” he says, in a funny detached voice.

“Please don’t go yet,” Merlin says in a small voice, and then seems to change his mind. “Or go, yes. I shouldn’t have started this so late at night. I’m sorry Arthur.”

Arthur nods and gets up mechanically. It feels wrong to walk away from Merlin like this, when tears are still staining his cheeks, but he can’t stay a second longer.

He finds he can’t cry even in the privacy of his own room. The bed seems so vast and cold compared to the night he spent before in Merlin’s arms.

It takes him ages to get to sleep and it’s not long before he wakes from a nightmare that he can’t even remember. But he’s damp with sweat and he can’t quite get back to sleep. He sticks it out for half an hour, feeling more and more anxious, then he cracks and gets out of bed.

The door to Merlin’s room is slightly ajar and Arthur tries to take that as a sign he’s not completely unwelcome.

“Arthur?”

Merlin’s blinking sleepily in the dim light from the street and Arthur finds he can’t summon up the words to speak. But Merlin simply flips the duvet up and gestures him towards the bed.

It’s toasty under the sheet; Arthur’s discovered in his time living here that Merlin always runs a little hot. He grazes the bare warm skin of Merlin’s chest as he settles and it makes sorrow well up inside him for some reason.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he mumbles.

“You know you have nothing to be sorry for,” Merlin says, voice still thick with sleep. “I hate all this as well. I only brought it up because-”

“I know, I know,” Arthur says, turning on his side away from Merlin. “I’m just so… ashamed.”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

Merlin reaches out and begins to rub Arthur’s back, slow and gentle.

“You have nothing to be ashamed about.”

But he does.

He’s never been able to say this to Merlin before. He hasn’t even broached it with Leon. It’s too painful to confront outside of his own head but he can’t bear Merlin’s sympathy if he doesn’t deserve it.

“Even if… even if…”

Arthur’s heart starts to hammer in his chest.

“Even if I enjoyed some of it?”

Merlin doesn’t respond straightaway and that sends Arthur right into a panic.

“Not everything!” he blurts out. “I didn’t like – everything. But some things… some of the sex…”

He trails off miserably.

“Is there something wrong with me? That I could enjoy…”

“No, Arthur, no. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Merlin’s hand is still massaging Arthur’s back. He’s moved a little closer, so Arthur can feel the puff of his breath on his neck.

“There’s nothing inherently evil or abusive about sex or kink or whatever. The way Mordred did things was wrong, not the things he actually did. You enjoying some parts of it is not unnatural in any way.”

“But I feel so…”

He keeps going back to the word ashamed. Ashamed at the memory of every orgasm he had, of every time he begged Mordred for more, every kiss he savoured.

“I know,” Merlin says softly. “These things are complicated. Your feelings aren’t always going to be black and white; the real world isn’t like that.”

He strokes Arthur’s hip.

“Have you talked about this to Leon?”

“No. Can’t.”

“Oh love, he’s a professional. He’s heard it all. You can always try it out on me first if you want?”

“No because you… you already think I’m too damaged for a relationship.”

Arthur swallows around the lump in his throat. That’s the crux of it, at long last. Everything he reveals is just going to convince Merlin more that Arthur is messed up beyond repair.

“Arthur, look at me.”

Merlin’s voice is very firm. Reluctantly, Arthur rolls over to face him.

“I do not think that at all. But I do want to look out for you. For both of us. Make sure we’re communicating properly before we enter into a relationship. I care about you too much to rush into this, okay?”

Arthur can almost understand that, even if he can’t quite believe it yet. It’s hard to know why Merlin would make so much effort, just for him.

Merlin sighs, as though he can read Arthur’s thoughts.

“Okay, what if I go first? Show you what I mean?”

Arthur nods.

“Right then,” Merlin says, and reaches out to take Arthur’s hand.

“I… I’m very bad at answering texts. Because I get caught up in work sometimes and I really hate it when people send me five in a row asking why I’m not replying. Erm, I get really moody around Christmas and I’m not sure why. I tend to complain a lot when I’m too cold or too hungry. I’m quite lazy. And I’ve left most of Gaius’ furniture untouched around the flat even though some of it’s falling apart, but I don’t want to replace it or even talk about replacing it.”

He massages Arthur’s palm.

“Sexually, I don’t like kneeling down to give oral because it makes me feel vulnerable. I don’t like having my hair pulled and I don’t like lovebites. I also don’t like to be called honey in bed because that’s what my mum calls me.”

Arthur makes a little noise, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Merlin squeezes his hand and keeps going.

“I do like rimming, giving and receiving. I do like being tied up or tying someone up, and I like spanking and mild painplay. And I like kissing, a lot.”

He brings Arthur’s hand up and kisses it once, very gently.

“So that’s me.”

He looks at Arthur and he must see the struggle going on behind Arthur’s eyes.

“Hey. You don’t have to.”

“No, I… I want to.”

Arthur does want to. He wants to make a clean slate with Merlin, to leave all the bad things behind. But it’s so hard to be honest when he has so little practice in it; to put himself out there and risk the rejection that might come.

“I… er.”

In addition to all that, it’s difficult to think of what he might be like in a relationship. He’s never really had one before; or at least not one where he wasn’t suppressing parts of himself to fit the bill of ‘perfect boyfriend’.

But he has to give it a go. He decides to start off small, to think of the obvious things he knows about himself.

“I… I like to exercise a lot so I, I guess I’m not very nice when I’m cooped up for too long? Just like, I don’t know, if it’s raining too hard to go out or I’m sick or something.”

Arthur gives Merlin a nervous glance but he just nods encouragingly.

“My attention span isn’t great so I get distracted quite easily. I know that’s really annoying, I can try to focus more if you-“

Merlin shakes his head and Arthur forces himself to not to apologise for who he is, he knows that’s not what this is about.

“I mean, yeah. I probably won’t be able to focus that much more to be honest. So maybe box sets or movie marathons aren’t really for me? And, er, I don’t actually like cooking. Like at all? But I can order a mean takeaway.”

He tries a smile and Merlin returns it.

“Sexually, I…”

Arthur draws in a shaky breath. This is the hard part. But he doesn’t want to stop now, when he’s so close.

“I don’t like c-cock rings. Or being blindfolded or gagged. Or… or being called princess or darling. And I don’t… I don’t like spanking or painplay, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Merlin says softly. “Carry on.”

“I… I do like being tied up. And… and breathplay. Like, corsets and stuff? And I’ve never tried rimming so I don’t know. But I like kissing a lot too. And I like when you call me sweetheart.”

His voice cracks a little there and Merlin brings Arthur’s hand up to his mouth, kissing it.

“Sweetheart,” he says quietly. “My sweetheart. Thank you for being so honest with me. I know it was hard.”

Arthur worries his lip with his teeth.

“So can we… I mean, do you think…”

“Yes,” Merlin says simply. “As long as we stay open with each other. Try to communicate as best we can. I don’t think it will be perfect Arthur, so don’t worry about that. I don’t want you to think you can never show weakness with me, that I’ll suddenly decide you’re too fragile for a relationship.”

“Promise?” Arthur whispers.

“Yes. As long as you promise not to dump me for bitching pretty much consistently from November to March about how cold this country is.”

Arthur laughs.

“You can’t be that bad.”

“Oh I can be,” Merlin warns. “But that’s fine. There’s always gonna be days where we annoy the crap out of each other.”

Arthur can’t quite wrap his head around it. The notion that you could be yourself in a relationship, flaws and all, and that would be accepted. Encouraged, even.

He doesn’t quite feel comfortable enough to let Merlin see it all yet, but perhaps he might do some day.

He licks his lips.

“So… can I…”

Merlin touches their foreheads together.

“Please do.”

And when Arthur kisses him, it feels like turning over a new page. A chance to start again.

 

***

 

Relationships are filled with little milestones, Arthur discovers. The first time they have breakfast in bed. The first time they go away for a weekend. The first time they introduce themselves to a stranger as partners.

Some of the milestones are sexual. The first time they undress each other. The first time they shower together. The first time they bring each other to orgasm.

Arthur learns that there’s always a new milestone to reach. That in a relationship nothing has to feel stale or dull, even if it might not seem important to anyone else. With that in mind, he knows that there’s no point rushing ahead; that savouring the journey is just as important.

But one Saturday he wakes up from an afternoon nap to find himself in Merlin’s arms, and suddenly he feels the time is right.

“I want to have sex,” he says determinedly.

“And what have we been doing for the past four months?” Merlin says, a slight tease in his voice.

Arthur blushes.

“Okay, yes. But I want to have… um, penetrative sex?”

The second it’s out of his mouth Arthur groans, shutting his eyes.

“I can’t believe you just made me say that out loud. Possibly the least sexy sentence of all time.”

Merlin laughs.

“Your voice makes anything sexy, believe me. Posh boy.”

“Shut up,” Arthur says, swatting at Merlin. “I am not posh.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Merlin says, catching Arthur’s hand and twining his fingers round it. “So you want to have anal sex?”

“Oh my God, stop. How much clarification do you need?”

“If you can’t say it, then you shouldn’t be doing it,” Merlin sing songs and Arthur retaliates by rolling over to pin him down on the duvet.

“You’re so cringe.”

Merlin wrinkles his nose.

“Cringe? Spoken like a true teenage girl. Not that there’s anything wrong with teenage girls, I hasten to add.”

“Nearly caught you out there, Mr Feminism.”

“Mr Feminism, wow. Worst super hero ever. Probably just bursts into women’s groups and starts mansplaining to everyone.”

Arthur sniggers and lets Merlin roll them over again, until he’s lying flat on Arthur’s chest.

“Anyway, sorry, I’ll stop teasing. Are you saying you want to like, right now, or sometime in the future or…”

Arthur considers.

“Now is… yeah. I mean. If you’re up for it.”

“I am,” Merlin says, and sits up, still straddling Arthur. “Indulge me in a little conversation first.”

“Oh God, that should be your super hero name. Captain Conversation. Here to talk the world to death.”

Merlin pokes Arthur’s side.

“Humour me, Captain Reticent. I’m one of those modern chaps who likes to actually ask about preferences before I just stick it in. Or invite someone else to stick in in me.”

“The Art of Seduction by Merlin Emrys. Chapter One: Seduce your partner by repeating the phrase ‘stick it in’ ad nauseum.”

Arthur’s joking but his chest has tightened up a little. He’s gotten more used to having difficult conversations since he’s been with Merlin but it always makes him a little anxious.

Merlin clearly sees because he leans down and draws Arthur into a lingering kiss.

“I’ll make it quick and painless. Do you have a preference?”

“Do you?” Arthur deflects.

Merlin appears to consider. He’s never anything less than honest with Arthur and it’s reassuring, even if it’s not always what Arthur wants to hear.

“I have a moderate preference for topping,” he says at last. “But I enjoy bottoming as well. My last partner liked topping too so we took it in turns, and I was always happy with that. So if you want to do the same, it’s no hardship at all, believe me.”

He gives Arthur’s side a little squeeze.

“Now you.”

“I…”

Arthur doesn’t know what to say really. He and Elyan had tried it both ways. Mordred had expected him to exclusively bottom. As Merlin knows this latter fact, he’s pretty sure his boyfriend is being extra careful to make it clear that Arthur never has to bottom again if he doesn’t want to.

And yet…

“I prefer to bottom,” Arthur says, cursing his stupid face for the way it heats up. “It’s not… I know Mordred didn’t give me much choice in the matter. But even before, with Elyan… I like it better.”

“Okay,” Merlin says, nodding. “I don’t think we should take you topping and me bottoming completely off the menu forever, but if we both have a preference for-”

“Wait,” Arthur says, cutting in. “Do you believe me?”

Merlin looks confused.

“Believe you about what?”

“Believe me that I like it better. Believe that I’m not just saying it because… because I’m still screwed up by what happened with Mordred.”

It’s hard to meet Merlin’s eyes but Arthur forces himself to.

“Yes, I believe you,” Merlin says softly.

He bends down to nuzzle a little into Arthur’s neck.

“I’ll always believe you, sweetheart.”

The nuzzle turns into a kiss, one that last for quite a long time. When Merlin finally pulls back, Arthur can feel the beginning of arousal coursing through him. His anxiety has been chased away with the kiss; he’s excited again, ready to take this next step with Merlin.

“Can we?” he says, and gestures over to the bedside table where the lube is kept.

Merlin reaches over to pull it out. He doesn’t get a condom; they don’t need one any more. They’d both gone to get tested a few months ago and stopped using condoms for oral when the results came through clear. Arthur had been so scared during the wait. Mordred had never used protection and while he’d said he was clean, Arthur had been terrified since then that was just another lie.

The results had felt like another piece of freedom from his past. He still feels Mordred’s presence in his mind, some days more than others, but the man doesn’t hold the same power that he used to.

And he has no place in Arthur’s head right now. He banishes him and concentrates on Merlin hovering above him, squirting some lube out onto his hand.

He’s a little too enthusiastic and too much spurts out, dripping onto the sheet. Merlin giggles.

“Oops. Remind me to buy the expensive stuff next time.”

Arthur laughs.

“Sure, blame the bottle Merls.”

Merlin flicks a little on his chest and Arthur snorts again, feeling how unfamiliar and joyful it is to laugh during sex. His past encounters have been so intense; he always thought laughing would be an instant mood killer. But it’s not, it only makes things better. He feels so relaxed, so at ease with himself and Merlin right now that he feels ready for anything.

Merlin manages to wipe some of the excess off his hand and waves it triumphantly.

“How do you want to-”

He’s talking about positions. Arthur tries to think.

“Er, on my side?”

He’d always liked it that way with Elyan. The angle worked for him and it felt more intimate to have a partner pressed up against him like that.

“Do you want to get on your side now or…?”

Arthur considers and then turns onto his front.

“Like this for now, maybe? This is how I… like, when I’m on my own.”

He hears a sharp intake of breath.

“Jesus Christ, that’s so hot. You have to let me watch next time.”

Arthur wiggles his hips.

“I’m letting you participate right now, Merlin, I think that’s better.”

Merlin pinches his thigh lightly.

“So cheeky. Whatever am I going to do with you?”

The answer is to apparently slip his finger between Arthur’s legs to press gently at his hole. Arthur groans and shifts a little, drawing his legs apart.

It’s nothing Merlin hasn’t seen before, they’ve been naked together plenty of times and Merlin’s even rimmed him. But it’s still a little strange to bare himself like this, with the knowledge of what’s to come.

“Ready?” Merlin says and then pushes his finger inside.

Arthur squirms pleasurably. He’s always liked this part. Something about being opened up feels so good and right to him; already a warmth is spreading through his stomach from just one finger.

“You like that?”

“Yeah,” Arthur says. “Yeah, Merlin… ah!”

Merlin adds another and Arthur begins to grind his cock into the bed. He feels the mattress shift as Merlin comes to sit in between his spread legs.

“Lovely,” Merlin murmurs, and begins to move his fingers around. It doesn’t take him long to bump up against Arthur’s prostate and Arthur stiffens.

“There?”

“Yes,” Arthur gasps out, pushing himself back onto Merlin’s fingers.

Merlin trails his free hand across Arthur’s back while his fingers continue to push up against that one spot inside him.

He’s feeling a bit fluttery now, the way he always does when the arousal starts to work its way through his body. Merlin’s rubbing the nape of his neck now and Arthur turns his head to the side and lets out a little moan.

Merlin’s fingers are so sure and steady inside him. It’s just the right speed, just the right rhythm. His cock is straining from where it’s trapped against his stomach and Arthur lifts himself onto all fours to gain some relief. Merlin barely falters, moving closer to sneak one hand forward and catch Arthur’s cock. He strokes a couple of times and Arthur sobs out a moan.

“I want…”

“Almost there now,” Merlin whispers and drops his cock in favour of moving back to slip a third finger inside Arthur.

“Merlin…”

Arthur hangs his head, breathing heavily.

“Can’t wait anymore…”

He’s impatient now, it’s been so long and Merlin has brought him right to the edge.

“Okay, sweetheart, just relax.”

Gently Merlin pulls his fingers out and tugs Arthur back down to the bed. Arthur’s limbs are floppy as Merlin arranges him on his side, dropping kisses into his hair as he goes.

Then he positions himself at Arthur’s back, so close Arthur can feel the heat of his body all over. It sends prickles down his spine. He’s never felt so in tune with another human being before; so _aware_ of their body and his, galvanised by every touch.

He feels Merlin’s cock nudge at his entrance and he sucks in a breath, last second nerves vying with the excitement pulsing through him.

Merlin pushes in slowly, almost carefully. It’s still too much for a second and Arthur gasps, one hand reaching out to grip the pillow.

“Arthur?”

“Yes… just please… keep going…”

Merlin complies, thrusting forward until he bottoms out and Arthur’s eyes roll back in his head a little.

It aches in only the smallest of ways, and Arthur can’t help but love the feel of his body adjusting around Merlin’s cock, adapting to his shape like its welcoming him in. He lets out a shaky moan and Merlin kisses his shoulder.

“Say when, love.”

Arthur realises that Merlin’s waiting to be given the go ahead to move. For some perverse reason he pauses for a few seconds, to see if Merlin will move anyway when the frustration gets too much. But he stays still, panting lightly against Arthur’s back. Another jigsaw piece of Mordred’s legacy seems to fall away in that moment, with Arthur fully aware that Merlin would do anything he asked him to right now, including stop. Never again will his wishes be discounted.

It almost chokes him up and he can only whisper a quiet “more, please” to tell Merlin that it’s okay to begin in earnest. Merlin still starts off slow, pulling out and pushing back in at a pace that sets Arthur’s nerves on fire. He regains his equilibrium enough to rock back against Merlin’s cock and Merlin speeds up a little, holding Arthur’s hips as he thrusts upwards.

Arthur’s hand drifts down to his cock, he can’t wait another second. He strips it fast, tight heat pooling in his belly as he gets closer to release. Merlin whispers words of encouragement in his ear, urging him on as Arthur’s whole body starts to quiver in preparation.

Three more strokes and he’s done, his body clenching up around Merlin as he comes with a shout. Merlin moans too, clearly enjoying the way Arthur tightens around him, and he quickens his pace. Arthur shuts his eyes and pants through his high, enjoying the pleasant ache of being fucked past orgasm, Merlin’s breath still hot on his neck.

It only takes another minute or so for Merlin to come, with a muffled swear word and a drawn out cry. He drops onto the pillow, and Arthur can feel his body trembling all over.

“That was… amazing.”

“Yes,” Arthur says quietly, suddenly shy.

Merlin doesn’t pull out, just moves to wrap his arms around Arthur.

“You’re incredible,” he says sincerely and Arthur ducks his head.

“You are,” he mumbles and Merlin laughs.

“Perhaps we’re both incredible.”

He quietens then, and presses a kiss to Arthur’s shoulder.

“I’m gonna pull out, love, okay?”

It stings a little but not too much. Arthur turns over to face Merlin, wanting to see his lover’s expression.

Merlin looks dopily happy, damp with sweat and cheeks flushed. He’s perfectly beautiful and Arthur can’t believe how lucky he is. 

“I’m so glad,” he begins and then stops there, because what more is there to say really? He’s so glad. He is so so glad.

Merlin kisses him.

“Me too,” he says, and the look in his eyes says he understands Arthur perfectly.

They lie like that for several minutes, just looking into each other’s eyes, the world quiet and still around them.

“So now we…”

Merlin ponders.

“Now we… lay here for ten more minutes. Then we get up and take a shower. Then we get dressed in pyjamas and I make you dinner. Then we put some film on that we have no intention of watching and snuggle on the sofa all night. But before all of that, my love…”

Merlin pauses dramatically.

“Can you move up a bit because I’m about to fall off the edge of the bed.”

Arthur grins.

“Sounds like a plan.”

He shifts backwards and then yelps.

“Oh, God.”

“Wet patch?”

“Lube patch!”

Arthur groans exaggeratedly.

“This bed is like a Slip ‘N Slide! You are such a klutz, Merlin.”

“You love it,” Merlin snickers, and rolls over to butt his head against Arthur’s chest. His hair is all soft and mussed and his eyes are crinkled up in laughter, those little half-moons that Arthur adores so much.

“I do, actually. Love you, I mean.”

Arthur says it almost without thinking, because it’s so self-evidently true to him.

Of course he loves Merlin. It’s possible he’s loved him since the day he spilt tea on him in the kitchen. And it’s almost surprising how right it feels to say it out loud. Something that feels firm and unquestionable, after such a long period of uncertainty in his life.

Merlin looks amazed. Then a slow smile spreads across his face.

“I love you too, Arthur Pendragon. Very, very much.”

And Arthur feels lighter than air.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Warnings: Mordred is sexually coercive towards Arthur and pushes him into doing some things he's ambivalent about. He also ties Arthur to a bed and lets another person into the room without asking permission, then ignores Arthur's safeword.


End file.
